Tag: mom with mental health

Why deciding not to have more children is not a selfish thing and you shouldn’t shame people who make this decision.

Bipolar HappensLeave a comment

I have an 11 year old daughter. She has deep red auburn hair with my smile her daddy’s nose and the best of both of us. She is our heart and I can’t imagine life without her, but she is an only child for a reason.

It is rude to ask people who have one child when they are having more because it may not be in the cards for other people.  You should never ask someone this question or any question relative to people having children it is tacky.

Anyway my husband and I have been together since we were 16 and he had a shitty home life and had to take care of his younger brothers so he didn’t even know if he wanted children.  We decided after we got married and spent some time with our friend’s children that we weren’t necessary going to try, but if it happened then it did. All of friends said it took them around 6 months to get pregnant and since I knew nothing about getting pregnant or being pregnant I said we have time, but a month and half later we found I was pregnant. The way we found out was kind of awesome it was on my husband’s birthday. We were so excited and when we found out it was a girl my husband had tears in his eyes. I had a fairly easy pregnancy but at 8 weeks they told me I was more than likely going to have a miscarriage because my uterus wasn’t growing and back pain. I was about 2 weeks passed due when I had her naturally (I refused drugs which is a personal choice everyone is different) I couldn’t breastfeed and we went through a list of formulas for her.

She wasn’t an easy baby. She had colic and never slept while I was dealing with Post-Partum issues even when I denied it. There are parts of her life as a baby and toddler I can remember clearly, but when she was young I was diagnosed and our thought s about another child were gone.

It is amazing even when people knew about my illness they said it was selfish for me to use my illness as an excuse for not having another child. It isn’t selfish don’t ever tell anyone that it is a selfish decision it is for the safety of myself and the child. I talked to my doctor and all the meds I’m on aren’t safe to take while you are pregnant so I would have to wean myself off of those onto something not as strong to take while I was pregnant and then there were increase chances of miscarriages followed by the let’s hope the meds work. If I ever became manic or depressed and no one was around I could’ve easily killed myself or the baby. I also didn’t want to expose this child to the predisposition of having any of these illnesses because there are genetic factors with each one of them, but even with that would I ever change my mind about my daughter? I would love to say no, but I honestly don’t know. I see it in her the things she does like when I was younger and I worry she has it too. She’s seen child psychologist before about her anxiety, but I see her mood, here re/ actions to things and it was just like me and I pray that she isn’t cursed with it too. As a parent all you want to do is protect your child from everything but to know that I could’ve gave her something so serious hurts. I don’t want her to be like me, to go down the same roads I went down (I am hoping that if she is that my knowledge of everything will help.) She always says she wants to be like me but I don’t want her to be like me. I love her more than anything else in this world, but I never want to see her suffer through this shit.

The decision not to have more children was mostly mine and my husband supports and respects my decision, but don’t ever tell someone their reason for not having children is selfish because you don’t know the whole story. So I decided to not have any more children because of my mental health.

A crushed lemonade can to explain my day and an apology to my daughter for a disease I can’t always control.

Bipolar HappensLeave a comment

Yesterday I didn’t post because my moods are to the extremes that cause damage. I was at home all day today waiting on my direct deposit to come in and I kept checking and it didn’t come through. I called and after an extended hold time I was told there was a problem in their system so the paychecks are backdated. This just escalated my mood. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. I paced around the house screaming there is a period I can’t remember but I started crushing cans with my hands to keep from trashing the rest of the house. I yelled at my daughter which is what I feel worst about. It wasn’t her fault that I didn’t have the money to buy cat food, dog food, or kitty litter. She was just asking if I bought any so she could clean it out. (This is part of chore list.) and I started screaming at her. I don’t know what I said to her but the damage was done so there is no point trying to remember. What I said was out of anger and moods I can’t control. She cried and all I could say was to suck it up and quit being a baby. I wasn’t a comforting or a good mother. She apologizes to me for making me upset and she was just trying to help. It didn’t matter I was so angry nothing would calm me down….except my husband and even that isn’t a guarantee. I called him and after much argument with him and me screaming he begins the process of stopping the progress of an escalation that would end up in me blacking out and running out of the house.

When he gets home we do our usual. I scream at him that I’m okay until he gets me to shut up turns the fan on in the bedroom and turns off the light and says, “You need to calm the fuck down now.” Which means it’s really bad and the black out moments have already started. I scream more before reluctantly agreeing. (He threatened to make me go stay with my mother again and (doing that once was more than enough for me.) I’m not myself, but I’m not giving you pills. (That is the next step me begging for medication.) We go through the are you high steps.

After awhile I calm down some and it is time for the apologies. (This is usually for what I can remember.) My sweet daughter had been crying the entire time, but when I apologize she hugs me crying and says, “Mama I love you and it’s okay I’m used to it.” Those words hurt…they hurt more than I could ever explain. She should never be used to it. I thought I got better and wasn’t like that as much, but I apparently not paying attention to how much damage I’ve caused or still causing. She also asked, “When I get older am I going to get mad like you do?” My heart hurts. I guess need to start saving up for therapy now because in her 11 years of life I’ve completely fucked up as a parent.

So I crushed lemonade cans to deal with my anger that I thought I was controlling but it escalated again and I’m sitting on the other side realizing the everlasting damage I’ve done.

Sometimes I think it’s easier to not be here and give her a chance to not be completely fucked by everything I’ve done to her.

Depression and disappointing your child.

Bipolar HappensLeave a comment

I didn’t do much of anything today besides fall asleep watching Netflix. I didn’t sleep well last night my dreams keep me up and down most of the night so sleeping was my biggest accomplishment for the day. I can feel the weight pulling me down the exhaustion from the thought of getting off the couch or picking up the remote. The list of stuff I need to do is crushing and there isn’t enough caffeine for motivation. My daughter wanted to go to the homecoming parade in the next city over but I haven’t showered, put on deodorant or a bra. I’m still wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday. I haven’t brushed my teeth or my hair so any public appearance is not happening. She jumped in my car when I went to pick her up and all she could talk about is the parade with her friends and I had to break her heart and tell her we weren’t going. I could see the hurt in her eyes and face but she tries to play it off. I ask her what’s wrong and she returns with nothing but her face is starting to turn red. She says she can’t tell me the truth because I get mad and start to call myself a bad mom. I tried to hold back the tears because she is all too familiar feeling when mama is sick. So I took my depressed ensemble to the dollar store where I spent $20 on random shit just to make her hate me a little less because it is my fault again we can’t go somewhere. I could feel people staring at me they knew what a horrible person I was. I bought her markers, notebook, modeling clay, and ice cream. She is excited but then I feel like I’m buying her love. We came home and I find my spot back on the couch find a movie she wants to watch and start to color with her. She is 11 and I know one day this won’t work anymore. This guilt is eating at me and I know she resents me for it and it will only get worse as she gets older. She wanted to go outside and play so I’m writing this hoping that I can rest for a few minutes before she comes back in. I can try and hide it for a little longer until my husband gets home or she goes to bed. I may not make it that long but I will try for her.

Bad Mom – my poem about my relationship with my daughter.

Bipolar HappensLeave a comment

I watched a video of my daughter when she was just 5 years old carrying an oversized black backpack walking into school by herself for the first time. This may not seem like a big accomplishment to some but for her it was one of the proudest moments in her life.

I watch the video proud and ashamed. Proud that at just 5 years old she could accomplish such an enormous task, but I still fight to get out of bed I know it sounds cliche See I have bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, severe generalized anxiety and issues with psychosis.

So for me some days getting out of bed is my biggest accomplishment and I know she sees it. I know that even through heavy wooded closed doors she can hear me fight with her daddy about the bottle of pills I can’t let go of because in my mind being dead is more useful to her than being alive.

I know that in her eleven years on this earth she’s seen me go to a psychiatric hospital, overdose on pills more times than I count, has a shotgun temper breaking windows and doors out of anger and do things I can’t always remember, but I always remember her crying and saying, “Mama please don’t leave.” Every time I storm out of the house after screaming about something as simple as not being able to find the remote and I know I sometimes I can’t help it, I try to control it or maybe I could control it if I try harder. It is so frustrating after years of therapy and medication still never knowing what could possible trigger it knowing I will never be that Mom who is always comforting because I can’t comprehend your emotions. I can’t just be happy or sad or neutral. It is always one extreme or the other or a mindless zombie from the 1200 mg of medication I take everyday just to function. I am sorry Cami. I’m sorry that I possibly have you the same demon that haunts me. I’m sorry I get so mad at you for no reason, that you can’t go to school and tell your friends anything besides you worry about me all the time. I’m sorry this disease has made me so selfish that I take time from you. That I can’t remember when you took your first steps or your first words, but I remember that time I overdosed on Xanax in the bathtub. I’m sorry I’m not a good mom. Your daddy tells me I’m a good mom, but I think he doesn’t want me to hurt more, because I’m not a good mom. I’m selfish, distant, angry, isolated. I keep our relationship at a distance so I don’t hurt or disappoint you. I’m sorry that my illness has become a normal part of your life and I tried not to cry the day your daddy got my medicine and you said, “I don’t want to be like you and take medication for the rest of my life.” It hurt because I don’t want you to be like me either but how do I explain that to you. I’m not always strong enough to fight the courage to put the bottle of pills down. That your memories may consist of that was the time my mom tried to kill herself, rushed to her doctor, fought with my daddy because she couldn’t control her emotions. She ruined holidays, birthdays because of something so small I can’t even remember why but I know she loves me even though she is selfish, isolated, distant and angry she loves me. That you knowing I love you even though I don’t know how to show it is the one thing you remember most about me and I tried to be a good mom.

🖤